Gambler's Faith
by The Trinity Tree
Summary: One afternoon, trainee barkeeper Cirrustralyx meets a very odd Selkie with an even odder talent for music. Together with a restless waitress and a blackmith's apprentice, they form Gambler's Faith, FF:CC's first rock band, for a tour of epic proportions.
1. Part One

Hi guys.

This one was just knocked up for fun the other day. It shouldn't be too long, maybe eight parts or so. Here's the first part. Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Part One**

_~ in which Cirrustralyx meets a very drunk Selkie._

* * *

It all started in the Gambler's Faith, the tavern in Crysila.

It was a Yuke run establishment, a family business. It was much quieter than The Vines across town, where most of the many travellers passing through between Shella and Alfitaria chose to spend their money. No, Gambler's Faith was a pub for the locals who knew better than to fight a drunk Lilty merchant for a seat.

It was Wednesday, winter. Cold. Cold enough that most wanted to stay at home rather than risk the frosty walk to the tavern by the bridge, but also cold enough that anyone who'd braved the slightly milder weather of the late afternoon now didn't want to leave. The clock above the roaring fire, a family heirloom and frankly bizarre in its intricacy, read ten.

Cirrustralyx cleaned glasses with contented and methodical movements. Seeing it was a quiet night, his father had left the bartending to him and gone upstairs to fix the accounts and orders for the coming day. There were only – he counted – nine, no, ten customers. All but one he knew, and had known since infancy.

For instance, Drew the Clavat in the corner only came in once a week, took striped apple cider, only the finest golden stuff from Fum, and he took it a half-pint at a time until he was gently drunk and had to be reminded to go home. Ortaelian and Durimmyad sat in the same corner every night and took three shots apiece of strange liquid. The Clavats in the other corner by the stairs were currently involved in some complex card game and were pulling out all the stops, revealing odd unwanted artefacts bought from caravanners to tip the scales in their favour. As he watched, a set of Loaded Dice rattled off the table and got stuck in a crack in the solid oak floorboards under old Lunorious' chair. Didn't stop the old Yuke snoring.

The Selkie at the bar, though... Cirrustralyx didn't know him.

He was average looking, as far as Selkies went. Cirrustralyx had seen a couple, although there was only one permanent Selkie resident in Crysila: Catseye, he was called, but he was on the caravan and away most of the year. This one was younger than Catseye, in his mid teens and looking rather much like he couldn't care less what happened next. He had dark hair, a deep slate purple, and fair skin blemished only by the tribal marks on one cheekbone.

"Hey," he said unexpectedly, not lifting his eyes from the grainy surface of the bar, "can I get another drink?"

"Of course," Cirrustralyx agreed affably, not mentioning that it was the boy's fourth. It wasn't proper alcohol he was drinking, but it was... special stuff. Slightly intoxicating Gambler's Faith special. The Selkie seemed to have a taste for it. Wordlessly, Cirrustralyx pulled another bottle off the shelf and set it down before him.

"Thanks," the boy mumbled, and tossed a couple of coins onto the bar. Cirrustralyx went back to his pensive polishing of glasses and the bar was enveloped in a bubble of silence untouched by the crowing of the Clavats in the corner.

"Why doesn' your voice sound... tinny when it comes ou' of the helmet?" the Selkie asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

The Selkie glanced up at him, and then swept an expressive hand through his impressively spiky hair. "I mean, when you talk, it's like you're not wearing the helmet. If I wore one I'd be all..." He waved his hands again, indicating something quite indescribable, "...muffled."

Cirrustralyx shrugged his spindly shoulders, his tiny wings fluttering with the motion. "Don't know."

"Thought you Yukes knew everything."

There was no mocking in the tone. Must be a joke.

"You just might not be asking the right questions," Cirrustralyx replied. Next glass.

"Wha's your name?"

"Cirrustralyx."

The Selkie looked up at him directly for the first time. He had dark eyes, attractively dark, the same colour as the furs he wore. And he was wearing more than Selkie's normally did, jacket and all. Must be because of the cold. But there was something about the way he wore them. It was with all the grace of normal Selkies for sure, but there was something else.

"Tell me then, sh-sh-Cirrustralyx," the Selkie said suddenly. "What am I supposed to do with my life?"

Now, normally, this is not something you ask of someone you just met in a bar.

Don't serve him any more drinks, Cirrustralyx mentally noted. Carefully stowing away any visible bottles of Gambler's Faith special, Cirrustralyx sat down opposite the Selkie and decided to humour him. "What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. I do not want to be a trader. Or a tanner. My dad's a tanner. It shtinks. Literally."

"Fi-"

"Don't say fisherman or I'll punch you for being racist."

"Sorry."

"Can I g't another drink?"

Cirrustralyx avoided that question. "What are you good at?"

"I dunno. C'n play music decent."

And right then, in Gambler's Faith, was when _it happened._

"We've got a banjo you can play," Cirrustralyx heard himself say, as if from far away. "You want to show me?"

It was his own banjo. Cirrustralyx played in the band at the Rejuvenation Ceremony, a great honour, and sometimes at other town celebrations too. People said he was good. This was ironic, as Cirrustralyx didn't really like the banjo much. Perhaps it was the vain hope that the Selkie might smash it that prompted this offer. Either way, the Selkie was sufficiently inebriated to agree that this was a good idea and to not care about the consequences of putting on a bad performance.

Cirrustralyx got the banjo out from under the bar. He played a few notes to get the feel of the thing and to adjust it. The Selkie watched him through slightly alcoholic lenses.

"You're not holding it right."

Cirrustralyx looked up. "What?"

"Give it." The Selkie held out an impatient hand. Bewildered, Cirrustralyx passed it over.

And he held it. It wasn't drastically different, the way it sat in his hands. But there was something about the jaunty angle that he held it, something about the way his fingers were poised, that made it look less like a banjo and more like a... something else.

"Listen," the Selkie said insistently, as if Cirrustralyx could possibly be payng attention to anything else, and then he played.

Later, Cirrustralyx wondered why the lights didn't flash on and off and no glasses shattered. And then he wondered why he thought they should have done.

He was good. Damn good. The way he was abusing the strings should have produced something terrible, but instead what came from the banjo was something so incredible that Cirrustralyx had to put his cloth down and tap agitatedly on the bar, because various parts of his body were trying to move along to the rhythm and his fingers were probably the least innocuous. He'd never heard anything like this. It was so far from the twanging tune he picked out at the festival every year that it would take an archer to hit it. Looking at the Selkie, trying to see clearly through the shimmering haze of music this Selkie boy was picking out almost casually, it was almost impossible to believe it was the same instrument.

The melody continued on for a few more moments, a strain of tune so golden you could have served it as cider, before coming to an abrupt halt as the Selkie stopped somewhat despondently. The Clavats in the corner were looking round; as the chord ended, they appeared to rouse from whatever trance they had been in. Normal sound washed back into the tavern. After the Selkie's music, it all sounded rather... tarnished.

"Oh," Cirrustralyx said, disappointed. The Selkie looked at him hopefully.

"You liked tha'? Is that an 'oh, why did you stop?' or an 'oh, be quiet and get back t' tanning'?"

Cirrustralyx coughed. "It was... good. Really good."

"Yeah?" the Selkie said, cheering. "I j'st improvised that. Not my best, ackt'lly."

"Look," Cirrustralyx said suddenly, "where do you live?"

"Eh." The boy shrugged dismissively. "Upper Jegon port. Here on a delivery to... to your tailor."

"You come here often?"

"Once a month. Why?"

Cirrustralyx fiddled with his cleaning cloth. "You... want to come play here once a month? We'll pay you."

The Selkie jumped up so quickly that the alcohol took control of his feet and he seized the bar for stability. "Yes. Yes! I'd like that. That's cool. You're cool. Yes!" He smiled, revealing the oddly white and sharp teeth common to all Selkies. "My name's Rae Fen."

Cirrustralyx shook hands over the bar. "Well, good to meet you."

"How about another drink to celebrate?" Rae Fen inquired optimistically.

Cirrustralyx looked him up and down. The Selkie was hanging onto the bar as if he thought letting go would drop him into hell. "I... don't think so."

* * *

"You said what?" Cirrustralyx's father peered at him over the thick accounts book.

Cirrustralyx shifted uncomfortably. "I asked him if he wanted to come play once a month. You know. Liven the place up a bit."

"Is he good?"

"Really good."

His father sighed, and peered down the totals column. The inked quill twirled thoughtfully in one paw. "Well... one hears things about Selkies."

"If Catseye was here he'd punch you for being racist, dad." He hadn't been able to get the line out of his head since Rae Fen had staggered out.

His father snorted.

"Just think of the extra revenue!" Cirrustralyx said quickly. "If we tell people about him, more people will come! More people will buy drinks!"

His father scratched out another order form with a deliberative air.

"I haven't told him how much we can pay him yet," Cirrustralyx added as an afterthought.

His father brightened. "Why didn't you say so?"

And so it was, on a Wednesday in winter, Cirrustralyx signed Rae Fen to the Gambler's Faith.

* * *

**End of chapter.**

If you don't review I'll punch you for being racist.

Ahaha. Just kidding. But if you've got any questions or criticisms, let me know. I always find it hard to start a new story from scratch.


	2. Part Two

Next chapter. Enjoy! :D

**

* * *

****Part Two**

~ _in which Rae Fen saves the day, and Cirrustralyx has an Interesting Idea_

* * *

Cirrustralyx was amazed by the crowd that had turned out.

It was the fullest he had ever seen the tavern, and he could hardly move to collect glasses between the tables. He supposed that it was hardly surprising. Rae Fen's performance was a break from the monotony of Crysila's routine; it wasn't often that anyone coming through Crysila had a purpose other than business. They didn't stay very long, and they certainly didn't entertain. In fact, travelling entertainers were all but non-existent.

As was Rae Fen. He still hadn't turned up.

"Cirrustralyx!" his father's gruff voice boomed over the noise and chatter of the patrons. "A word, please!"

His father never said that unless he was annoyed. Groaning, Cirrustralyx managed to balance another two glasses rather precariously onto his already loaded tray and struggled back through the maze of pulled-out chairs to the bar. "Yes, father?"

"Your friend hasn't arrived. It's gone nine."

"I know – "

His father waved an expansive paw. "Look at the crowd, Cirrus. How am I supposed to tell them that this wonderful performer they came to see isn't, in fact, coming?"

"From a safe distance?"

"Oh, Cirrus!" his father said crossly. "Wash those glasses and help your brother behind the bar."

The rap of knuckles on the back door cut across any further instruction and Cirrustralyx's heart leapt. "Someone's knocking."

"I hope this is your Selkie."

Ignoring this, Cirrus rushed through the back store room and wrenched the door open. There was no one there. Frowning, he looked left and right. "Hello?"

"Down here, copperbonce."

Cirrustralyx glanced down and was confronted by a Lilty youth. He was short, blunt and aggressive-looking; even the orange of his skin was brighter than any other Lilty's Cirrustralyx knew, as if the boy was doing everything he could to offend the eye. Kir, the archive of his mind supplied, the blacksmith's delivery boy, and a compressed explosion waiting to happen.

"Hello, Kir," Cirrustralyx said wearily. "What is it you require?"

"Your dad ordered some more barrels because the old rings were rusting," replied Kir, somehow contriving to suggest with a flick of his fiery bangs that he was not surprised that Cirrustralyx was ignorant of this fact. "I brought 'em for you. You want them?"

"Well, yes…" Cirrustralyx said, glancing around once more. "Bring them in."

Kir shrugged, and picked up the nearest of three barrels with apparent ease. "Whassamatter with you, skinny britches? You look distracted."

"I'm waiting for the musician to turn up and he… well, he hasn't."

"Shame," Kir commented with malicious glee. "Wouldn't like to be in your shoes."

"Put them there," said Cirrustralyx irritably, pointing to the corner of the store room. Kir obliged. Once he'd deposited his burden he straightened and cocked his head. "Sounds loud in there."

"That's because half the town has turned out," supplied Cirrustralyx miserably.

"Can you play? I thought _you _could," Kir said, voice pointed. Cirrustralyx scowled. "They're expecting a Selkie with actual talent, not me."

"I can see how you'd be a big step down," Kir agreed, "but the way I see it, what other choice do you have?"

In the expectant silence that followed, the muffled noise of the crowd in the bar beyond grew suddenly louder.

"I'll get my banjo," Cirrustralyx said weakly, giving in to fate. Kir smirked.

"Ah, don't worry. I'll come and watch. Give you some moral support."

Cirrustralyx looked down into his devilish little smile. "Oh. Great."

He tried to creep out of the store so his father wouldn't notice him, but to no avail. His father's attention centred firmly onto the banjo in Cirrustralyx's paws.

"Is that for him? Is he here yet?"

Cirrustralyx fidgeted. "Well, no… I don't know if he's coming. So I thought I should better get up and do something to keep them occupied. You know."

"You," his father said, "are in trouble. You'd better sort this out – hey! What are you doing with my saucepan?"

This was addressed to Kir, who was examining the said object with the air of an expert.

"You could do with another set of these," he announced. "They're getting a bit worn. Could do you a good deal on another lot?"

"Put it back and don't touch anything!"

Cirrustralyx hurried out from behind the bar and towards the makeshift platform they'd set up against the wall. There was an empty stool on it and not much else. With a lump in his throat, Cirrustralyx climbed up and set the banjo down carefully before raising his paws.

"Hello everyone! There's – there's something I need to tell you all – "

The hubbub quietened a little and several faces and highly polished Yuke helmets turned expectantly to him. Taking a deep breath, Cirrustralyx indicated the banjo.

"You probably all know that we hired a musician to come and play for you tonight. Well, I have to inform you that – "

The door swung open. Rae Fen slouched in with effortless grace, bringing with him a cool blast of air and sudden salvation.

" – he's here!" Cirrustralyx cried. Behind the bar Kir the Lilty burst into laughter. Ignoring this, Cirrustralyx jumped down from the stage and pushed through the crowd. Seizing Rae Fen by the elbow he dragged the Selkie into a corner.

"I thought you weren't coming! The banjo's on the stage – "

"Wait, what?" Rae Fen looked bewildered.

A horrible sinking feeling hit Cirrustralyx but he plunged on anyway. "You said you'd play for us. The banjo."

"I did?"

"Yes," Cirrustralyx said firmly. When Rae Fen continued to look bemused he conceded, "You… might have been a little drunk at the time."

Rae Fen stared at him for a moment. "I remember you." Then, slowly, he looked round as if he'd only just noticed the crowd. "Is that why all these people are here? You told them I was playing?"

"Yes." It was difficult to not sound like he was begging.

"Seriously?" Rae Fen looked amused. "Well, I'm not surprised that so many people came to watch me, but, well, I'm just not feeling it. I don't think I want to play."

"You don't want to play," Cirrustralyx repeated.

Rae Fen shrugged self-consciously. "Not really. I'm getting, what do you call it, artist's block. Can't express my talent properly, you know?"

_Oh good grief. _"But you played my banjo last month and you were amazing. Just… go up and play some improv. Look, all these people want to hear you."

"You think I'm good enough to play live?" Rae Fen. A lazy smile curled across his face. "Really?"

"Yes!" Cirrustralyx leapt upon the thin thread of hope. "And everyone here thinks so too. You don't want to let them down, do you?"

And there it was again. A sudden aura of absolute confidence oozed from the youth in waves, surrounding him in a heady, almost alcoholic, haze. Rae Fen stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Where's the banjo?" he asked smoothly.

Cirrustralyx pointed. A quick shake of the head revived Rae Fen's impressive tousled purple hair and then he was strolling towards the stage as if he owned the tavern. A hush fell as he ascended onto the stool. Picking up the banjo, Rae strummed it reflectively and then addressed the crowd.

"Hi there. I hear you all came to hear me play."

A murmur of assent swept the room like wind across the corn fields. Rae grinned.

"All right then, here's a little something I came up with just yesterday - "

And then he started to play. Cirrus realised he was holding his breath.

Good! It was good! Better even than last time! Without the sluggishness of alcohol in his fingers Rae was practically dancing his hands over the banjo, picking out a strangely addictive jazzy melody that caught the unwary on the first row and started their feet going before they realised what was happening. Within moments half the room was dancing along and the scrape of pushed-back chairs sounded. Suddenly exhausted, Cirrustralyx slunk behind the bar and sat, grateful to be off his feet while the anxiety-induced adrenaline ebbed away.

Gradually, as he fought his way out of the golden musical fog suffusing his vision, he became aware of a rhythmic tinny noise. He shot a look sideways. Kir was absently tapping his fingers along to the beat on the back of a saucepan. Sensing he was being watched, he glared over at the Yuke.

"What?"

"Nothing," Cirrustralyx replied, surprised. "It… it sounds good."

Kir chuckled. "You can bang just about anything along in time with a beat and it sounds a whole lot better. Like... gives it depth. You put another note in there and maybe you got yourself a symphony."

"Another note?"

"Another instrument," Kir explained haughtily, the music prodigy.

Cirrustralyx glanced involuntarily over to where his father's horn lay hung under the bar, veiled in fine dust. Kir saw where he was looking. "Yeah. Like one of those."

On stage, Rae Fen began a new, faster tune. As if he couldn't help himself, Kir went back to tapping on the saucepan and left Cirrustralyx with a new, ill-formed but _Interesting Idea_.

"Cirrus!" his father yelled. "Please serve the customers!"

There was a queue at the bar. Cirrustralyx took the saucepan from Kir and said, "You finished work?"

"Maybe."

"Hang around after my shift ends."

Kir stared at him suspiciously, then shrugged. "Yeah, alright."

* * *

About three hours after Rae Fen had arrived the tavern was packed to bursting point. The Selkie was still playing his uproarious melodies, although the music had slowed a little. Cirrustralyx pushed another half dozen pints onto the bar and shooed the recipients away to make room for the seemingly endless tide of customers. All of them seemed in a euphoric state, as if Rae Fen's music had somehow triggered epiphanies. They were all enjoying themselves at any rate.

Sighing, Cirrustralyx reached for another glass when a hand shot out and seized his elbow.

"Hey!" an angry female voice snapped. "What do you think you're playing at?"

It was a Clavat. Cirrustralyx couldn't really comment on her attractiveness but she was quite petite, standing a good deal shorter than him, and her apron clung to her in a manner that suggested pleasantly-developing curves. Her short, stiff blonde plaits bounced as she shook his arm again and he looked down into fierce blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" It was hard to hear even his own voice over the din.

"You're stealing our customers!" the Clavat maiden accused.

Realisation dawned. "You're... from The Vines? On the other side of Crysila?"

"Yes I am and we're practically empty! Half our crowd is swigging in here with you! What are you trying to pull, exactly?"

Cirrustralyx gestured helplessly. "Your customers, apparently – "

"Is that a joke?"

"No! No, no. We got a Selkie in to play tonight and everyone seems to like him – " He winced. "Miss, can you let go of my arm?"

The girl pulled her hand away abruptly, scowling. "Where's this Selkie? Playing what?"

"The music! He's on stage!"

She finally got the message and half turned on the spot, eyes seeking the target of the adulation of the crowd. For a second her expression glazed – Cirrustralyx recognised the effect of the Selkie's music on the unwary – and then she blinked and shook her head slightly. She whirled on the spot.

"What's your name?" she asked sharply.

"Cirrustralyx."

She jerked a thumb. "And him?"

"Rae Fen – "

"Well, my name's Nell and you better not forget it. If you pull another trick like this it'll cost us some serious gil and you some serious hurt." She paused, and glanced contemptuously to where Rae Fen was cradling the guitar and crooning a wordless hum along to his music, all grace and style and unbearable Selkie cockiness. "And you can tell him he's such a poser."

She turned and stalked out, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by her hampered movement through the crush.

"I like her," Kir said affably.

"Shut up, Kir," Cirrustralyx said wearily, just as his father shouted, "Last orders folks!"

* * *

**End of chapter.**

For the record, Nell is the only character I'm still struggling to entirely visualize. I like her though :)

Come back next chapter guys!


	3. Part Three

Hi there everyone :) Hope you all had a lovely Christmas.

Argh. I seem to be having a formatting problem where the first line of the story keeps trying to jump into the "Part Three" box, despite correction. Fingers crossed it won't misbehave when it's published. Oh, and this chapter's a little longer than usual, I had a lot to cram into it. Enjoy!

* * *

**Part Three**

_~ in which Cirrustralyx's idea comes to fruition, Kir provides some backbone and an unwanted manager is acquired._

* * *

"I hope you know I'm wasting my day off coming here to talk to you," Kir muttered darkly from his perch on a barrel.

Cirrustralyx pretended not to hear, and toyed with the object in his paws thoughtfully. It was his father's horn, taken quietly from underneath the bar and wiped delicately free of dust with a well-used dishcloth. Buffed up, Cirrustralyx could see the oddly distorted reflection of his helmet in the shaped surface. Kir coughed meaningfully.

"Oh," Cirrustralyx said, starting. "Well. You remember last night after my shift ended? I asked you to tap out a beat on all those saucepans I set up for you."

Kir scratched his topknot. "Well, yeah. I didn't think much of it. All you Yukes are bonkers, aren't you? Like that fella said he could see the world in a piece of bread. Helmet screwed on too tight, if you ask me."

"The point was," Cirrustralyx said patiently, "that you could do that along to Rae's music next month."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Cirrustralyx frowned behind his sallet. "Because it sounded good! People will keep coming back that way."

"And that Clavat girl will have your shiny nut," Kir added brightly.

"Kir," Cirrustralyx tried to explain, "you said yourself that music has more depth the more instruments you put into it. If we all played together..."

"It'd make a right godsawful racket."

"Why?"

Kir shrugged, leather-shod feet swinging cheerily a couple of feet off the oaken floor of the cellar. "Because we wouldn't be playing the same tune."

"Well, after I heard you play the... the saucepans last night, I thought I'd take the liberty of asking you to come back so we could all practise playing the same tune."

"_All_ of us?" Kir snorted. "That lazy Selkie hasn't even got his booty out of your upstairs room yet. What makes you think he'll be in on this little shenanigan?"

This was true. Cirrustralyx hadn't even considered that Rae Fen would say no.

The musician in question had, as Kir had so succinctly put it, still not got his booty out of the tavern's cheapest room. He was due to set off back to his village at noon. Cirrustralyx's clockwork watch – a present from his previous birthday – showed him it was half past eleven. "Maybe we should go and wake him up?"

"You can," Kir said, leaning back against the wall and shutting his eyes. "Wake _me _up when you get back. With breakfast."

* * *

"No thanks," Rae Fen said.

"What?"

The Selkie stretched luxuriously in his battered purple jacket; the mu fur trim was just as rumpled as his short hair. He swung his legs out of bed and yawned, again showing those oddly pointed teeth.

"I said no. Look, it's a nice thought and all but I do my own thing. Can't have you and your little friend cramping my style, can I? Especially with all my new fans."

"What style?" Cirrustralyx protested. "You only had an audience because of me!"

"Maybe," conceded Rae Fen, but made no attempt to take his words back.

Cirrustralyx looked heavenward for inspiration, and found none.

"I liked you better when you were drunk," he said. The Selkie looked somewhat guilty at this, and even more so when the Yukish youth shut the door.

* * *

"Couldn't get him?" Kir said innocently. Cirrustralyx hurled a slice of toasted bannock at him in reply.

"Be quiet."

"Can you even play the horn?" asked Kir dubiously.

Cirrustralyx picked up the horn and stared at it. "Yes. I'm not fantastic, but I'm not atrocious either."

"Play it then," Kir suggested. With an experimental pump of the valves, Cirrustralyx blew into the mouthpiece. The tune produced was rusty, but still recognisable as the harvest festival thanksgiving song. Cirrustralyx stopped playing after the first wordless verse, a strange mixture of elation at his success - and disappointment that his music possessed none of Rae Fen's magic – filling his soul.

"That was pretty good," admitted Kir grudgingly.

"Not good enough," Cirrustralyx said. He set the horn on the barrel by Kir. The Lilty picked it up and examined it. "Can you play anything else?"

"Some things."

"Play me a tune and I'll do some saucepan whacking along with you."

And this was how Rae Fen found them when he ventured cautiously down into the basement.

Cirrustralyx was blowing lungfuls of sound through the horn, no longer following any one of his limited repertoire but playing whatever he liked, inventing his own music as he went along. Like a mad thing, Kir was cheerfully and wildly bashing away with two ladles at anything that made a noise, following the Yuke's up-down melody as best he could.

It wasn't perfect, far from it. But, given a little direction and practise… well, it could be pretty darn good.

"What are you doing?" Rae Fen asked loudly. The music stopped abruptly as both players turned sheepishly to him.

"None of your business," retorted Kir. "And you can shift your pretty-boy backside out of here since you declined the offer to be in our… our band – _Cirrus does that sound good okay yes great_ – so that we can practise! You're cluttering up the smithy!"

"Workshop?" Cirrustralyx suggested mildly. "Smithies are for blacksmiths."

"Studio?"

"Sounds good to me."

Rae Fen broke in. "What's going on?"

"Well, since you didn't want to join our endeavour we decided we'd no longer offer you a monthly entertainment slot here, and we'd fill it ourselves." Cirrustralyx said.

"You mean I can't play here again?" Rae Fen said, anxious.

Kir grinned maliciously. "That's what the birdman said."

"But what about my fans? And the pay was good money for an afternoon doing nothing…"

"Well, kid, you blew it. Now get out of our smithy!" snapped Kir.

"Studio."

"That's what I said."

Rae Fen raised both his hands placatingly. "Look, wait! I came down here because I was thinking about changing my mind, only you both started yelling at me."

"If you'd like to join, just say." Cirrustralyx said.

Rae Fen shrugged indifferently. "Well, you sound okay but not great. Clearly you'd be a lot better if I was in it so really you're the ones who should be asking my permission."

"You're an idiot," Kir said bluntly, hefting his ladles again with a menace. "Join or get out."

"Alright! Yeesh. I'll join."

* * *

And then they practised.

Cirrustralyx pleaded with his father to be allowed the cellar on a Sunday morning before midday opening, and Kir announced that his father's spare room was available on Tuesday afternoons. It didn't help that Rae Fen lived out of town; this was settled by having Rae Fen's father send his son into Crysila weekly instead of monthly to make more regular deliveries, the pretext being that should a bandit raid occur, the lost profit would be minimized.

"Smart," Kir said when Cirrustralyx babbled that out.

Then there was the fact that none of them knew a thing about sheet music, so they couldn't transcribe any of Rae Fen's music. This meant a lot of practising by ear alone, and so the group could only play three songs in relative unison. The rest – Rae's "masterpieces" – were proving a little more difficult to play along to.

"No no no!" the Selkie youth exclaimed in exasperation. "It goes da da _da _DAAAA – "

"That's what I did!" Cirrustralyx protested.

Kir was chewing a quill pensively. "Nah, you needed to hit a higher note at the end. Now be quiet."

"What are you doing?" asked Cirrustralyx curiously as the Lilty went back to the paper in his hands. Kir flourished it briefly.

"Trying to write it down. Like, if I do a dot for every beat I bang on the big saucepan, that's the rhythm. Then I draw a line for you and a line for Rae, going up and down, and you have to do those notes when I hit the drum. Only… continuously. And it's very hard and you two are both too stupid to understand it so shut up."

"Let me see, Kir," Cirrustralyx said, holding out his hand. Wearily, as if allowing a persistent child a minor victory after hours of pestering, Kir thrust it at him.

Cirrustralyx studied the parchment for a while. "This is good. Maybe if we…"

And after that everything was a little easier, and the group had prepared five of Rae Fen's songs by the time the next performance date came round. That night, as Kir adjusted the arrangement of saucepans around his seat with the air of a perfectionist and Rae Fen strummed contentedly on his banjo, the tavern began to fill up once more. A few inquisitive looks were shot at the pile of pans on stage. Kir glowered. They stopped.

"You ready?" Kir asked Rae Fen as the door swung open to admit a damp early spring breeze and half a dozen Clavats into the rapidly swelling crowd.

"Yeah," Rae replied. "What time do we start?"

Kir struggled to make out the clock on the fireplace mantel through the press of customers. "In… fifteen minutes. There's so many people here already."

"Yeah, and one of them is not our genius," Rae Fen pointed out. "Where's Cirrustralyx?"

"I don't know."

A quick survey revealed that several people had spotted him hurrying upstairs some minutes earlier.

"Great," Kir muttered. "Stage fright?"

Rae Fen was about to reply when his attention was caught by the figure of a curvy blonde Clavat maid sidling in through the door. "I – tell you what, I'll ask around some more and you go check if he's up there." With that, he jumped the stage and angled to intercept the blonde on her way to the bar; Kir darted upstairs.

"Hello, pretty lady," Rae Fen said smoothly, sliding next to the Clavat girl as she came to a halt at the bar.

"Go away," she said without looking at him. "I'm looking for someone and it's not you."

Rae Fen frowned, and tried once more. "Well, maybe it was fate that brought you here to me – _I've_ been looking for someone like you all my life."

The Clavat girl turned to stare scathingly at him, and her blue eyes widened. "Hey! You! You're that dumb Selkie who's caused all this hassle!"

"Am I? I mean, I am. What hassle?"

"The Yuke hired you and thanks to your our customers have done a bunk again! If you start coming every week we're going to lose a lot of money!" The Clavat's hand shot out and she seized Rae Fen by the ear. "If you get on that stage I'm going to personally kick your – "

* * *

"Cirrus? It's Kir. I know you're in there."

"You can't make me do it."

"Yes I can."

"No you can't."

"I'll tell that Nell girl you said she was fat."

"I'll be right there."

* * *

Kir and Cirrustralyx were taking their places when Rae Fen came hurtling onto the stage, ashen faced.

"You've got to help me!"

Cirrus mumbled something incomprehensible, trying not to look at the crowd. Kir sighed. "Why?"

"Because there's a crazy blonde after me saying that if I play she's going to do terrible things to me!"

"Oh," Kir said, catching sight of said rapidly approaching blonde. She was a fair distance away yet, slowed considerably by the crowd surging towards the now occupied stage. "Her."

Rae Fen moaned. "I can't play!"

"Snap," Cirrustralyx said faintly.

Kir glared from one to the other, and then, deliberately loudly, brought his ladles crashing down onto the saucepans before him. His bandmates started in surprise as he began picking out the beat for their intended first song. Nell's inexorable advance was brought to an abrupt halt in the crush around the stage.

"Play now," Kir gritted, "or else not only will you look stupid but I'll give you to Nell after I've finished with you."

It had the desired effect. The tune started immediately, a little discordant at first but better as they synchronised, the sound washing out over the crowd like a wave.

And Kir had been right, Cirrustralyx thought. It _did _sound better with more than one instrument.

Kir's saucepans crashed, Rae Fen's banjo sang, his horn blared. The golden haze arrived once more. For one odd moment Cirrustralyx fancied he could see the notes spinning out of his horn and dissolving above the now-dancing crowd; it was amazing, it was fluid, it was like magic. The feet of the crowd followed their music, and Cirrustralyx felt the sudden joy of his control over their movement.

He was part of this. He was _doing_ this!

They finished their rather limited set of group songs about half an hour later. Kir and Cirrustralyx hopped down after this, leaving Rae to languidly continue earning his wage for the month solo. The pair sat at the bar for a while in silence, and then Cirrustralyx got up mechanically and ducked through to pull two beers.

"You old enough to drink?" he asked.

"No," said Kir.

"Me neither," Cirrustralyx replied, still giddy with stage fright and success. "Have one anyway."

And then there was Nell like some avenging monster from the depths, blonde plaits swinging, filling his vision with her short tunic of yellow cotton and her slightly creased white apron.

"You," she said with deadly calm, "are in big trouble."

Cirrustralyx groaned. "Oh, go _away_, Nell..."

"I will not." The Clavat slammed her palms down onto the bar and leaned forward. "I am a waitress. A badly paid waitress with no better prospects and nothing else to do on a Saturday night! I don't really like my job but I do it. If you keep this up, pretty soon I won't even have that!"

"You must be exaggerating," Cirrustralyx said meekly. "We do this one night a month. The Vines must get this many people nearly every night."

Nell scowled. In his distraction, Cirrustralyx noticed that she had freckles.

"All right, Mr. Clever Helmet. You want to know what it is? I sing sometimes at the Vines and my singing hasn't drawn in half the crowd you got on your first night. My boss wants to know why you got so lucky, why you brought in so many customers when I didn't, maybe even hire you, and if he does – bang goes my extra salary when he replaces me with you!"

Kir snorted into his beer. "Ever thought that maybe you're just a really terrible singer?"

"Why, you little – "

"Excuse me," a voice spoke over Nell's, and Cirrustralyx dragged his attention from where the waitress was now berating the disinterested Kir to see two more Lilties. They were both dressed richly – from Alfitaria, with fashion like that – and wore tiny gold pins symbolising their trade. Merchants.

"Two ciders, please," the first said, tossing some gil onto the bar. "Half pints."

"Right away," Cirrustralyx said, carefully negotiating the brimming glasses past Nell's flailing gestures (Kir was still studiously ignoring her), and the Lilty brightened with sudden recognition. "You were on stage a minute ago, weren't you?"

"I was," Cirrustralyx affirmed, fighting the buoyant swell of pleasure in his chest so as not to float off the ground.

"You were darned good. Didn't I say they were good, Gorra?"

The second Lilty nodded. "That you did. Very good." To Cirrustralyx, "Do you only play round here?"

"Only in Crysila," Cirrustralyx said. "It's not practical to go anywhere else."

"Shame, shame that is. Didn't I say they'd go down a treat in Shella, Gorra?"

"That you did." To Cirrustralyx, "They'd love you in Shella."

Cirrustralyx coughed in pleased embarrassment. "Do you think so?"

"Sure we do. Matter of fact, we're headed that way in two days time. Portable crystal, see. Why don't you come along'v us? See if you can raise a crowd there? You can hitch a lift back with us when we set off home for Alfitaria. Only a travel fee of, say, thirty gil a head?"

And then Cirrustralyx realised that the background buzz of Nell's irate voice had stopped some time ago, which could only mean that she had quieted down and had been listening in. As if he possessed some sort of self-fulfilling forward vision, the Clavat maiden stepped neatly forward and into the exchange.

"Shella? Alfitaria?" she said amicably, taking the nearest Lilty's hand and shaking it. "Couldn't help overhearing you, my apologies."

Kir glanced over at Cirrustralyx, expression full of dark foreboding.

"Yes, missy, you heard right. What was it you were wanting?" the merchant inquired.

"Well, if you had travel plans for the boys it's really me you ought to be talking to!" Nell proclaimed cheerfully. Kir only just restrained himself from spitting out a mouthful of beer; Cirrustralyx nearly dropped a glass. Even the Lilty merchants looked dubious.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Nell smiled. "Because I'm the manager, of course!"

"No you're not," Kir said bluntly.

"She's not," Cirrustralyx repeated to the merchants.

"I _am,_" Nell said firmly, and somehow her voice completely drowned out their protests. "So, when are we going to Shella?"

* * *

**End of chapter**

They need a Clavat, otherwise they're being racist. And no one _likes _to be punched, really. See you next time :)


	4. Part Four

Hi there! Part Four coming up.

As I write this my street is knee deep in snow. If I wasn't unsure about whether college is open or not tomorrow, I would be out frolicking in it. My message is therefore this: if you are in a frolick-worthy situation, go, frolick! Frolick where I cannot.

Enjoy :)

EDIT. Thanks to TitleContreven for pointing out my rather silly Crsyila-Shella substitution errors. They're all (hopefully) corrected now :)

* * *

**Part Four**

_~ in which Kir is rude, and Nell comes to the rescue_

* * *

"Absolutely not," Cirrustralyx said. "I can't leave Gambler's Faith. I can't leave Crysila! It's too dangerous outside!"

Rae Fen and Kir were seated before the Yuke as he paced the basement, wringing his paws. Kir was tapping his ladle on the side of the barrel he was perched on; he looked thoughtful. Rae Fen was wearing his customary expression of lazy amusement.

"Why not?" the Selkie inquired. "Wouldn't you like to see the world? Just a little bit? It's not so bad travelling between towns."

Kir nodded. "I think I'd like that. Just for a while, you know?"

"No!" Cirrustralyx wailed. "We have everything we need here. We don't have to go anywhere else!"

"Scared, Cirrus? Didn't have you down as a wuss - " teased Rae, but the end of his sentence was drowned out by another bout of insistent hammering from the other side of the locked cellar door. As one, the group glanced up the stairs.

"We could at least let her in to explain herself," Kir said.

"I don't want to listen to her. Since when were you so accommodating, anyway?" protested Cirrustralyx weakly, but his feet betrayed him and the key was turning the lock before he could stop himself. Nell tumbled in a moment later. She'd evidently been leaning against the door and fell straight onto Cirrustralyx.

"Oh! So you've finally decided to listen to me?"

Cirrustralyx gestured towards Rae Fen, who was smirking. "No, but he has."

"Oh." Nell's face fell as she saw the Selkie. "You."

"And me," Kir added, uncharacteristically enthused. Nell's expression didn't alter one iota at this encouragement – the Lilty's jibe about her singing skills had clearly left a bruise on her ego. Nevertheless, the Clavat maid smoothed out her apron and hurried down the steps into the cellar. Cirrustralyx shut the door with a sigh as Nell began her rehearsed speech.

"Well, it's like this. _You _have got a good thing going here. You could see the world, earn some gil," she winced, "Get some girls. I hate my job and I want to go somewhere else. You were offered a ticket out – why can't I come with you?"

"Because you're useless," Kir said bluntly. "You don't play, so we won't pay. And you're not staying with us when we get to Shella. You'll be all by yourself."

"If we go to Shella," Cirrustralyx interjected. "If."

"I don't mind about any of that!" Nell said desperately, ignoring Cirrustralyx. "I've got some wage saved up. I'll pay my own way. I just need an excuse to get me on that merchant caravan!"

In the end, Rae Fen solved the problem.

"Well, I'm going to Shella," he said, standing and stretching languidly. "And, since you guys are nothing without me, you can't play when I'm gone. As for the lady," he indicated Nell with a tilt of the chin, "so long as she's quiet on the trip, I don't care."

* * *

Excuses were made. Kir invented an apprenticeship offer; Nell handed in her resignation; Cirrustralyx dithered until the last moment before hastily packing a bag and blurting to his father "sorry so sorry but I'm going to Shella ancestral homeland opportunities for investment business contacts you know how it is I'll be home soon" and running from the tavern as fast as his feet could carry him.

Rae Fen, in typical Selkie fashion, hadn't even bothered making up a falsehood. Cirrustralyx found him sat on the back of the merchant's caravan as the Lilties in question bustled about loading up what was left of their goods. Kir was absently patting their papoamus, a small satchel between his feet.

"See you decided to show up," Rae Fen commented, grinning. "For a while I thought you'd changed your mind."

"I still might," Cirrustralyx mumbled. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see his father giving chase.

Kir, hearing his voice, looked up. "Copperbonce! You made it. We're just waiting on Blondie now."

"Actually," Nell's voice sounded, _"Blondie _has been here for ages."

Rae Fen jumped off the back of the caravan in surprise as Nell emerged from within. She stood triumphantly, staring down at the three of them.

"You four all ready to go?" Gorra, the merchant's bodyguard, called back. For a moment, Cirrustralyx felt everyone was looking at him. Was he ready?

"Yes," he said quietly. The answer was relayed and without another word the caravan rolled out through Crysila's gate.

* * *

It only took two days to reach the miasma path, and an hour to cross it. It was possibly the worst hour of Cirrustralyx's life. The tiny bubble of pure air and the even tinier shape of the oh-so-flimsy merchant caravan made painfully slow progress across the ravaged track. The eerie silence of the journey did nothing to sooth his nerves and the malign pressure outside – even stronger during a miasma path - was giving him a headache.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he managed. Kir could only nod numbly; the miasma had had an equally nauseating effect on him. Nell was sat opposite them with her hands over her ears, humming loudly as if trying to drown out voices only she could hear.

Rae Fen, on the other hand, seemed at ease. He plucked the banjo strings. "Guys, we're safe. Just relax, okay? You're only making it worse."

"I can't," Kir said bluntly. "Who said this was a good idea?"

"You did," answered Cirrustralyx, and glanced at Nell. "Is she alright?"

"She's a girl," Kir said. Clearly, that explained everything.

Later, when Kir had dozed fitfully off and Rae Fen had casually ventured out to have a look at the scenery ("_What scenery?!_"), Cirrustralyx heard Nell singing very softly under her breath.

It was... kind of nice.

* * *

From the miasma path it took another two days to get to Shella, and Cirrustralyx had never been so glad to see a crystal. The luminous crescent of the Yuke citadel was where they and the merchants parted ways until the return journey, and then there was only left the relatively simple matter of making it big.

"Gorra said the best tavern in Shella is up outside the students' quarters, by the lecture theatre." Cirrustralyx parroted the bodyguard's advice. Rae Fen shrugged. "Well, we should try there first."

"Why don't you all go to different taverns?" Nell suggested. "You could get more offers that way."

Very loudly, Kir said, "What's that I hear? A voice? It sounds like the girl we said we'd have nothing to do with once we'd got her out of her dead-end job."

Nell scowled, and said nothing more.

"No, my mistake." Kir smiled devilishly. "Must be hearing things."

"She's got a point, though," Cirrustralyx conceded. "We've only got until the end of the week to find a job, otherwise this whole trip was for nothing. We should split up."

"But we can't all go separately!" protested Rae. "Otherwise we can't play our music and we might not be able to convince them to take us on otherwise."

In the end they decided that Kir and Rae Fen would make their plea known to the owner of Shella's best tavern while Cirrustralyx tried to sort out accommodation and locate some more public houses, should all else fail. Nell had disappeared in a huff by the time Kir and Rae set off, leaving Cirrustralyx alone. Shella was bone-achingly cold, he realised, and rubbing his paws together he hurried away.

It depressed Cirrustralyx somewhat that he'd exhausted the supply of taverns in Shella that could afford to pay them to play in less time than it took Rae and Kir to ask permission to play in just one. He sat by the crystal until the familiar sound of Kir's voice reached him.

"Well, how was I to know he'd be offended?"

Rae Fen's exasperated reply followed it. "How could he not be?"

"What happened?" Cirrustalyx asked when the pair joined him on the bench.

Kir shrugged. "The guy said he'd let us play."

"That's great!"

"That was," Rae Fen added, "until Kir said 'wow, I wasn't expecting the birdbrained idiot to cave so fast'. He changed his mind after that."

Cirrustralyx groaned. "Kir!"

"Don't you start! Anyway, bet you haven't turned up any offers either."

"No, I haven't. I've only got one place left to look but I was getting a bit lost so I came back to see if you two were here." Cirrustralyx steepled his fingers, an annoying habit he'd picked up from his father. "I haven't had chance to look round for a place to stay yet, but there are a lot of No Vacancy signs around."

Rae Fen let out a low whistle. "Now what?"

They sat in mournful, thoughtful silence for a while until someone rapped Cirrustralyx on the helmet. He half turned to see Nell behind him, a big smile on her face.

"No luck?" she inquired brightly.

"Do shut up," Kir snapped.

The Clavat raised her hands in what they assumed was a gesture of peace, or at least pity. "Alright, I'll go. I was only going to say that there's some nice rooms going cheap in the Scholar's Study up the road, if you're interested. That's where I am."

Rae Fen was used enough to Kir's caustic outbursts by now to clap his hands over the Lilty's face and muffle the forthcoming _and why would we want to stay anywhere near you_ retort. Cirrustralyx sighed. "Thank you Nell, but we haven't even got a position yet. There's nowhere to play."

Nell frowned, and glanced around. The thoroughfare around the crystal was fairly busy and a constant stream of Shella's residents were shooting curious looks at the sack of Kir's saucepans on the bench. With an overly dramatic gesture, Nell flung her arms out and exclaimed, "Play here!"

"But everyone will be looking..." Cirrustralyx glanced round apprehensively. At least in Crysila he'd known some of the faces, known they wouldn't all laugh if it went wrong. Nell put her head on one side. "Isn't that the idea?"

"Are you serious?" Rae Fen said with the distaste for the ordinary that all Selkies could somehow muster. "In the street? We'd look common."

"If you don't do it you're going BE common," Nell replied. "Come on, set everything up and play."

It took only a few minutes to do so, during which time several inquisitive onlookers had gathered to watch this developing phenomenon. Kir tested his saucepans gingerly, a tinny _tap-tap-tap _which echoed impressively through the nearby streets. "Good acoustics," he said, brightening a little. The short solo had caused a murmur of excitement through the huddle of watchers.

Cirrustralyx crossed his fingers and hoped that was a good sign.

Kir's drumming started, a catchy beat that seized the ear. Moments later, Rae Fen's banjo chimed in. A few Yukes in the crowd clapped, and Cirrustralyx was heartened; Yukes were not normally known for their appreciation of the flighty musical arts. Shut eyes. Deep breath. Be calm.

Raising his visor a little to put the horn to his mouth, he blew a single sustained note – saucepan crash _there_, banjo _faster_ – and then they were off. He was vaguely aware of people clapping along in time to the beat, heard the sound of feet tapping and moving; it was the whoop that caused him to open his eyes and the sight of Yukes dancing – scholars, mages, practical tailors! Dancing! - almost stopped him playing in surprise. He caught himself just in time though, and the song went on.

Nell spent the first two or three songs hurrying about with a cap dug out from somewhere in her little travel bag, collecting the change tossed forward. The chink of coins clicking against one another was perhaps the best noise of all, even if it only was small change. After the end of the third tune, Rae Fen gave his bandmates a trademark lazy smile and gesture for them to take a break. He'd do one alone to 'improve his solo music'.

It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting the full attention of the cluster of girls – Clavat, Lilty and Yuke students alike – all making moon eyes at him from the sidelines, remarked Cirrustralyx sarcastically. Kir pulled away from his saucepans at this and sidled over. "Cirrus?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know the Yuke girls are making moon eyes? You can't see their faces."

Cirrustralyx was spared from answering by the arrival of Nell. Kir scowled. "Why are you still here?"

Nell rolled her eyes and shook the cap of coins in Kir's direction. "Using my initiative and getting you some cash. There's just over thirty gil in tips here, you know," she said smugly.

"Thirty?" Cirrustralyx repeated incredulously. Sure enough, the hat seemed to be brimming with tiny gold pips of coins. He and Kir shared a gleeful look. "If we did this every day for a week that'd be at least two hundred gil, maybe more."

"Don't forget you've got to buy food and lodgings out of this," Nell reminded them. This only slightly diminished the flame of success burning in Kir's eyes.

"You sound like my ma," the Lilty said carelessly. "We've only been here half an hour. We'll make loads."

Nell was about to make a snappy retort when Rae Fen's music came to a close; the Selkie indicated for the group to take their positions again. Kir obliged immediately but, as if held by some magnetic force, Cirrustralyx remained. He looked at Nell.

"What are you planning to do here?"

The Clavat shrugged. "Bit of this and that. I'll find something."

Cirrustralyx frowned. If she didn't get a job she'd be stuck here; they might not take her back on in Crysila, and Nell seemed too proud to go back and beg for her old waitressing position. No, she'd stay, do whatever dirty work she could find. She might not get lucky like they had, and they'd only got lucky today with her help.

"Come on Cirrus!" Rae Fen shouted. "We'll do 'Midnight Reel'!"

"Wait!" Cirrustralyx called back, and turned to Nell. "Do you know the song 'By The River Side'?"

Nell looked sidelong at him. "Doesn't everyone?"

"I mean, can you sing it?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, "sure I can."

Cirrustralyx gestured towards where Kir and Rae were watching. "Come on then. Give the cap to Kir. Rae and I will play your accompaniment."

"You sure anyone will tip the little turnip with a mouth like that?" Nell asked wryly, but she stepped forward. A hasty explanation was made and Kir sulked for a moment, but the sight of a cap full of gil changed his mind quickly. The opening bars of 'By The River Side' drifted out and a shout of recognition came from the crowd. Nell's voice joined in:

"_My love took me a-walking_

_By the river side_

_He took me out a diamond ring_

_So I could be his bride – "_

The crowd sang along with her, but the Clavat girl's voice was unusually sweet and none could quite match it. Rae Fen was grinning and even Kir looked surprised. By the fourth verse the Lilty was conducting the crowd with a ladle and mock solemnity, and Nell was positively bursting with pride. Mentally, Cirrustralyx congratulated himself on his decision. His eyes wandered over the crowd and suddenly alighted on the figure of a small Yukish child just visible through the legs of older, taller figures. A boy, Cirrustralyx realised, without a guardian present –

And leaning through the railings over the gushing torrents of the Upper Jegon river.

"_And now we're hap'ly married_

_My true love and me_

_A-living by the river side – _oh!_"_

Nell's voice became a strangled cry of alarm as she too spotted the child leaning precariously out. Rae Fen only just caught Cirrustralyx's hastily thrown horn before it hit him in the face. Both Clavat and Yuke rushed through the crowd as the boy slipped and began the descent into the icy waters below; both Clavat and Yuke grabbed an arm and heaved him back.

There was a shocked quiet, and then a wild cheer. Congratulations were offered, pats on the back, tips raining into Kir's cheekily proffered hat. The child's parents took him back with displays of anxiety and relief so uncommonly shown by Yukes that it was almost tearful to watch.

"What can we do to thank you?" the mother asked, and for a bizarre moment it was like being a hero in a play. Could they have anything? Money? Daughter's hand in marriage? Superpowers? Cirrustralyx shook his head weakly, not sure what was going on any more.

The father, on the other hand, knew exactly what practical reward to offer. "My brother owns the Moogle's Crest on East street – we can get you a show there so you don't have to sit out on the street – "

"That would be great," Nell interceded brightly. So that was in safe hands. He didn't have to concentrate on that either.

He still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he should really be keeping an eye on...

"What, we got a job?" Kir's reassuringly real, brash voice cut through the surreal moment. "Didn't take 'em long to change their minds, did it? If you ask me – "

He didn't get a lot further before Rae Fen tackled him with the banjo.

* * *

**End of chapter**

Rae's a fast learner.

I made up 'By The River Side'. That's probably why it's so terrible - I'm not a songwriter by a long shot. As always, comments and reviews are appreciated. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to do so this far! :)


	5. Part Five

Exams are now over! No more until June, hooray!

This chapter is a little shorter than usual. My writing bug deserted me for a while and I didn't want to force it, which resulted in this rather segmented chapter. I'm going to pretend it was intentional. Hopefully this is satisfying enough, anyway. Enjoy :)

* * *

**Part Five**

_~ in which Rae practises what he preaches, and Nell extends the trip._

* * *

The second day dawned slowly. The beauty of the rising sun was lost entirely on Rae Fen, however, who woke up at half past one that afternoon to find the room he shared with Cirrustralyx and Kir empty.

Yawning blearily, the Selkie stretched and half fell out of bed; after locating his jacket from where Cirrustralyx had thoughtfully hung it on a chair, he headed downstairs in the vague hope that breakfast would be forthcoming. The bed and breakfast – the Scholar's Study – was a small but pleasant enough place, and twenty minutes away from the tavern where they would be playing that night. Rae Fen slouched languidly into the breakfast room to find the rest of his group clustered round a table.

"There you are," Nell said. "We just ordered lunch."

"But it's breakfast time."

Cirrustralyx checked his clockwork watch. "It's half past one, Rae."

"Which is breakfast time."

Lunch came in the form of sausages, spiced gourd potato mash and thick wedges of buttered bannock bread. Seeing Rae Fen's face twist at the greasy looking dinner, Cirrustralyx said apologetically, "We let Kir order... If it's any consolation, there's a free side salad."

"Oh, come off it," Rae Fen muttered. "No one ever actually _wants_ the side salad."

"I'll have yours if you don't want it," the Lilty offered around a mouthful of potato. Rae Fen pulled his plate of sausages defensively towards him. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, thanks to our playing in the middle of the street and the rescue mission, everyone in Shella is talking about us," Nell explained cheerfully. "Our friend at the tavern says he'll pay us one hundred gil apiece per night for the next four nights if we promise not to play anywhere else in the meantime. I had to haggle a bit for that. I think I scared him into thinking we'd go somewhere else. It's not like we don't have any options any more, everyone wants us."

"Mathematically speaking, we'll get four hundred gil each for four nights work, or one thousand and six hundred in total," said Cirrustralyx, "which, if I say so myself, is excellent."

Kir stopped shovelling in sausages for a moment, expression glazed. "Just think of what you could do with one thousand six hundred gil."

They did. Nell thought of buying some dresses that made her look less like a frumpy waitress and more like a lady of class; after all, there was only so much lace you could sew onto your horrible work tunic before people started looking at you oddly. Cirrustralyx imagined setting some aside for leaving home, having his own business; a flicker of guilt prompted him to think about sending some back to his father. Rae Fen thought less about what the money would buy and more about what it would attract – girls were suckers for flashy, or at least flashy-_looking_, presents. Kir merely multiplied the contents of his plate by a few hundred. A collective sigh went up around the table.

"Kir's drooling," Rae Fen said, grinning. "Bet he's thinking about food."

"So are you." Nell said. "You must be thinking about groupies."

* * *

They left the bed and breakfast at mid-afternoon to look around Shella. After all, only Rae Fen had ever been outside of Crysila, and even he had seen nothing like as grand as the ancestral citadel of the Yukes. There were odd narrow alleys where the buildings leaned forward so much that the roofs were almost touching, and wide open squares with fountains and flowerbeds of exotic blooms. The academy of magical arts, famed for being the workplace of Amidatty the eccentric, was four times as big as the Gambler's Faith tavern to accommodate staff quarters and lectures for classes of as many as twenty at a time.

"I swear I can hear bangs every now and again," Rae Fen said. "Do all you Yukes have a thing for blowing yourselves up in the name of alchemy?"

"Cirrustralyx doesn't," Nell pointed out.

"We've got a distillery back home." Cirrustralyx said, adding with feeling, "It's practically the same thing."

After that Nell dragged the boys to boutique; she couldn't afford any of the outfits but insisted on trying them on anyway. Kir demanded an early tea before the show began and so they visited a little cafe to blow the rest of their spare change. The matronly Clavat behind the bar kept giving Rae Fen saucy winks that no woman her age should be allowed to get away with. It didn't take much of this for Rae to drag the group out of there, and they headed down the darkening streets to the Moogle's Crest.

* * *

The first night passed in a blur of flickering lantern lights, cheers, free drinks and music so thick and syrupy that Cirrustralyx could almost taste it.

"We need a name!" Rae Fen yelled over the cheering, the lightning of adrenaline pulsing through his veins. "So everyone all over the world knows who we are!"

"Gambler's Faith!" Cirrustralyx's mouth replied without the intervention of his brain, and Kir's next drum crash drowned out everything else.

* * *

"Mm mm mmm-mmm _mmmmm_ – " Cirrustralyx hummed under his breath the next morning. Nell, the only other member of the group awake, glanced sidelong at him from where she was curled up on an armchair.

"What tune's that?" The tone of her voice made it very difficult to gauge whether or not a reprimand for aggravating her hangover was on the way. She looked interested though, so he shrugged self-consciously and obliged. "It's not. I just made it up. To fit these words."

"Words? You're writing a song?" Nell inquired curiously. "How's it go?"

"I don't really want to say," protested Cirrustralyx, shoving his quill and parchment into the chest of drawers in their little sitting room. Kir's snores drifted out from the partially opened door of the first twin bedroom. Cirrustralyx groaned.

"He's even noisy when he's sleeping... I didn't get a solid hour's peace last night."

"Where's Rae?"

Cirrustralyx frowned behind his visor, casting his thoughts back to the previous night. Through the vague haze of music and cider he recalled the Selkie youth disappearing after the end of their set with a brilliant white grin of triumph.

There wasn't much recollection after that except a pounding headache and Kir loudly declaring that he would do a drum solo to finish, at which he forcibly wrestled the Lilty off the stage.

"I don't know, actually," he said thoughtfully. "He's probably fine."

"Yeah, fine." Nell muttered. "So was the Clavat chick."

Cirrustralyx coughed to cover the awkward moment. "Toast and herbal tea?" He'd never been a fan of herbal tea before, but Shellan Yukes were mad for the stuff and he and Nell had already developed quite a taste for it.

"Would you?" Nell said imploringly, and Cirrustralyx hurried out, as much to get away from the thought of Rae Fen's exploits as to order breakfast.

Nell waited a few seconds to ensure the Yuke was out of earshot. Then, pouncing on the little chest of drawers, she seized Cirrustralyx's parchment and unfurled it to read whatever song-writing genius had been concealed within.

_The damn Lilty snores_

_The damn Lilty snores_

_The little turnip head _

_Has snored the nails from my bed_

_I can't take his nightly noise any more_

The words 'suffocation' and 'chair leg' had been scribbled in the margin.

* * *

Then it was the second night, and the third, and still the crowds didn't thin. After all, there were only so many Shellans that could cram into the tavern each night and it seemed that everyone wanted to look at them.

"Isn't this incredible?" Rae Fen beamed between songs as they took a hasty water break. "We're famous!"

"In Shella," Nell pointed out.

Kir waved a hand dismissively. "Oh lighten up, pigtails. Shella's a big place."

"Not as big as Alfitaria," Rae Fen said slowly, and he and Nell shared a secretive sort of look full of ambition.

"What?" Cirrustralyx noticed it. "What are you implying, exactly?"

Rae Fen swigged down the last of his water and clambered back onto the stage to renewed cheers. Over his shoulder, he said, "Well, can you imagine it?"

Looking at the crowd beyond Rae, Cirrustralyx wasn't really sure he could.

* * *

"Mm mm mmm-mmm _mmmmm_ – "

"The damn Lilty snores?" Nell said innocently.

And somehow, the lyrics Cirrustralyx invented on the spot out of sheer embarrassment became the opening of their first original song. After that, the rest of the words just seemed to click perfectly into place for him.

"Play me a tune for this," Cirrustralyx said on the afternoon of the fourth and final day of performing at the Moogle's Crest, handing the sheet of lyrics to Rae Fen. Experimentally, the Selkie plucked at his banjo.

"Higher," Kir said, almost absent-mindedly, and the tune improved instantly. It never ceased to amaze Cirrustralyx that such musical sensitivity came from Kir, of all people, who otherwise had the same capacity for delicacy as an anvil. Nell picked up the lyrics with commendable speed and was soon singing it with or without musical accompaniment, which had driven all three boys to distraction by the thirtieth rendition.

They played that song on their final night at the Moogle's Crest and it went down better than the alcohol.

"This is our last night the Crest!" Rae Fen yelled after their last song. "So if anyone else would like to make us an offer, we're open to suggestions!"

There were offers, two of them, and generous. So, while Nell negotiated with her dazzling smile – "now now, we can do a show for each of you, a night apiece" – Cirrustralyx helped Kir pack away his saucepans.

"Maybe we could make you a set of real instruments," Cirrustralyx commented, handing the largest and most unwieldy to the Lilty. Kir wrestled it into his sack. "Nah. These work fine. What would I want with any new ones?"

Rae Fen appeared over his shoulder, passing an armful of the smallest pans down. "It's all about the looks, isn't it. You've got to put on a show. If it's not flashy, people are less interested."

"Any blacksmith will tell you it's the quality that matters," Kir retorted, snatching the saucepans. "Shouldn't matter how it looks. If looks are all that matters, Cirrus is never gonna get a girl."

"Thanks Kir," Cirrustralyx said wearily.

"Any time."

Rae Fen was about to make some witty comment when a white hand reached over to tap his leather jacket-clad shoulder. Rae half turned to reveal a slim Clavat with dark curls and green robes.

"Uhm," she said, withdrawing her hand. "I was just wondering whether..." She cast a worried glance at Cirrustralyx and Kir, and Rae saw it. He winked at Kir and, taking the girl's hand, pulled her away into some private corner.

"Looks like he practises what he preaches," Kir muttered. "If it's not flashy, people don't want it. Rae's flashy enough alright."

Nell hopped off the stage to join them. "What was that?"

"Rae Fen has just met up with his Clavat friend from the other night," Cirrustralyx supplied briefly. Nell glanced over, and her eyes narrowed.

"Not the same girl."

"Ah." Cirrustralyx paused, restraining the urge to blurt out something about fetching herbal tea. Kir took advantage of the silence to cut in teasingly. "What, you've been keeping tabs? Do you fancy him or something?"

"No," Nell said firmly. "He's so... ugh. No. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some more negotiating to do."

"What for?"

"There's a man from Fum over there who'd like us to play at their Elder's birthday in five days." Nell looked up at the Yuke. "What do you think?"

Cirrustralyx exchanged a hesitant look with Kir. Kir held his gaze for a moment – the Lilty had an unnerving knack of staring directly through the visor, as if searching for material for his next jibe – and then shrugged, going back to tying up his instrument sack. _The_ _decision is yours_, was the message. Cirrustralyx floundered. "Fum is... really far away. How will we get there?"

"By ferry, of course!" Nell exclaimed. "We'll play these two shows on the next two nights, then board a ferry down the Jegon. I'll get us a good deal."

"As easy as that?" Cirrustralyx said weakly. In his mind's eye, the little image of Crysila grew farther and farther away.

Nell snapped her fingers, smiling. "As easy as that."

* * *

And so, in three days, Cirrustralyx boarded a boat for the first time.

"It's... wobbling," Kir said dubiously, hanging back on the jetty. "Should it do that? Ain't nothin' I've seen my boss make ever wobble like that."

"Physics of water," Cirrustralyx explained, although even he was a little anxious. The Shellan port was below the main citadel, infrequently used as Shella had little to offer Fum in the way of commodities and the downstream current was too strong for Fum to send produce any way other than by land. After a short descent down slick steps to the subterranean dock, gripping tightly to cold metal railings all the while, the party had been confronted by a strange craft.

It was wood, certainly, but of a pale silvery kind that shimmered like the stalactites hanging from the ceiling. The sails looked impossibly thin, the three masts too slender and fragile, the whole ship thin like a needle. It glistened ethereally in the middle of the frothing water like a ghost.

Rae Fen gave a low whistle of admiration. "Dayum. She's a beauty."

"She's _wobbling_," Kir reiterated bluntly.

There were two Yukes on the deck, the crew, and seeing Kir's unwillingness to board they both leaned together to share a private joke.

"I can hear you laughing!" Kir yelled, racing up the gangplank. "See here now, you griffin-litter runts, I'm coming on to throw you off!"

Rae Fen followed the Lilty aboard with a chuckle; Cirrustralyx stepped onto the gangplank and politely offered a paw to Nell, who took it to help herself up. Then, once everyone was aboard, the ship moved away from the dock smoothly and into the main current. Nell paled suddenly.

"What is it?" Rae Fen asked, reaching out a hand as if to steady her. "Are you going to be sick?"

"There – " Nell swallowed, and tried again. "There wasn't any rope attaching us to the dock! The boat was just perfectly still, stuck in the current!"

"Really? You mean like magic?"

"I didn't make it up!" Nell smacked him on the arm, and then clutched at him. "Oh, I feel funny..."

Rae Fen backed away hastily. "Don't be sick on me! This was an expensive jacket!"

When they docked on the Fumside Jegon port two days later both Nell and Kir got off a lot faster than they'd got on. Cirrustralyx was quite reluctant to leave the ship, having grown quite fond of it during their brief journey. Rae Fen was inconsolable.

"Maybe when we're rich, we could buy it?" he asked miserably as the ship pulled away and began reversing with apparent ease back up the Jegon. Cirrustralyx patted him on the shoulder.

"Maybe. Come on, a caravan's here to pick us up."

* * *

**End of chapter.**

Fummm! I think it's probably the most under-loved of all the tribal homelands. Let's face it, the only thing you can do there is race cows (which holds some kind of strange fascination for my brother).

Let me know if you thought this was a dreadful way of celebrating the end of my Spring exams ;)


	6. Part Six

Here we go, part six! A little short, but it the end seemed the most sensible place to divide up what would have otherwise been a hefty chapter. Considering writing up a (belated) Valentine's fic idea for the holiday prompt in the Moogle's Nest forum. Valentine's never occurred to me.

Anyway. Enjoy :)

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* * *

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**Part Six**

_~ in which Cirrus writes some songs, and Nell gets a date_

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* * *

**

The little caravan that had been sent to pick them up was hardly more than an old apple cart, refurbished just enough to make the short distance between Fum and the Jegon and then back again. Two cows, looking oddly small because everyone these days was more accustomed to the bulk of a papoamus, lowed between the shafts. Still, Cirrustralyx appreciated the effort put into their retrieval, particularly since portable crystals were quite rare and most were bound to chalices; to have one sent especially for them was an honour.

Rae Fen climbed aboard first and was about to sit down, when, as if remembering his manners, he turned back and threw out a hand to Nell. The Clavat took it, using the spokes of the oversized back wheel as a ladder to push herself up. Kir looked at the cart dubiously.

"S'falling apart," he said. "And why cows?" He glanced at Nell. "Maybe they're trying to tell us something."

"It must have been difficult for them to get us any other form of transport at such short notice," Cirrustralyx explained patiently. "Be grateful that we aren't walking there through the miasma."

"Yeah, well, either way I can't get up on the stupid thing," Kir muttered. "I'm not tall enough and there's no steps. It's just plain racist."

"I could punch him for you," offered Cirrustralyx. From the apple cart, Rae Fen looked down at the gangly Yuke and grinned.

Kir stared suspiciously between them, not pleased that he was missing out on the joke, but eventually allowed Cirrustralyx to provide him with a foothold onto the cart by way of kicking the Yuke in the shin so that he knelt down and them climbing onto him somewhat haphazardly. Once Cirrus was aboard, eyes watering behind his visor, they set off at a slow roll along the track.

The Clavat who was driving was a male in his late teens, with the brown hair so common to those of his tribe. He kept shooting curious glances back at the mismatched group. Cirrustralyx wasn't surprised – they hardly looked like musicians. And besides, what did the Fum-landers have to go on as testament of their skill apart from the hastily scribbled letter sent via moogle from their referee back in Shella? They probably weren't expecting much.

Nell was humming idly, toying with one of her pigtails. The tune was catchy, and Cirrustralyx found himself reaching for a quill and parchment to create some words for it. The slightly warmer weather of the south was a relief after the chilliness of Shella and, between sunning himself and writing, Cirrustralyx had little cause to think about the time. He was pleasantly surprised when the cart rolled into Fum about noon; the trip had hardly seemed to take any time at all.

"My back aches," Kir complained, stretching.

Rae Fen, who would have been at home on a boulder, got up with the unnatural grace that had drawn Cirrustralyx's attention in the first place. "Well, I'm fine. How long are we here for, Nellie?"

"Don't call me that!" Nell said crossly. "Even my dad stopped calling me that when I was six. And..." She fumbled in her tunic pocket and produced a small, cheaply bound book. A quick leaf through the pages later, she announced, "Eight days. We'll have to wait for the Selkie merchants to pay their annual visit and they should give us a lift back up to Marr's Pass. They get there in late spring and they spend the rest of the year there. Or in Alfitaria. I think they alternate."

"How do you know all this?" Cirrustralyx asked in wonderment.

The Clavat shrugged. "You hear things, being a waitress. It's just about the only perk."

"Excuse me?" This was the driver of the cart. He'd dismounted and was looking up at them expectantly. "The Elder's house is this way, please. We were going to give him a surprise party, but on the whole we thought it would be easier to let him know."

"I imagine it must be hard to hide all the preparations from him," Nell agreed.

Kir sniggered. "Or maybe they thought jumping out at him going _SURPRISE! _would do his heart in."

* * *

The Elder was a kindly man, bent with age in the way that all Elders seemed to be regardless of race. Cirrustralyx cast his mind back to Crysila and tried to remember whether, in the seventeen years he'd been alive, his own Elder had ever looked any younger than a hundred.

He came to the conclusion that no, he had not.

"It's an honour to meet you all. We've heard some wonderful things," the Elder stated pleasantly. "We have set up some accommodation for you. Young Rhys here will show you where it is. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Nell said, dropping a curtsey. Even Kir and Rae managed little polite nods of the head in the face of so much twinkly charm.

"Are there any questions?" the Elder inquired.

Kir opened his mouth. Instinctively, Cirrustralyx and Rae clamped hands over it.

* * *

Rhys, the brown haired youth from the cart, turned out to be the son of the local landlord.

"We've only got the one public house. It's the bottom floor of our inn," he explained. "Fum's big in terms of land space, because of all the farmland, but there aren't many people here really. Maybe near a hundred?"

"That's still a lot of people," Cirrustralyx said, looking around. Fum really was quite scenic, with picturesque little cottages and flowerbeds and miniature fences. It even smelled nice. Must be because of the new apple blossoms, he thought absently. A sudden wave of panic struck; this place was so pretty and unsuspecting. They really didn't deserve the absolute terror of having Kir running around loose.

"Where's Kir?" he asked of Nell, who was walking ahead with Rhys and chatting quite amicably.

"Down here, Leggy McTall-tall," Kir said grumpily. "And I'm not talking to you."

"Why?" asked Cirrustralyx, baffled.

Kir snorted. "Because you practically choked me back in the Elder's house. I was only gonna ask how much they were paying us..."

"Was that going to be before or after you called him a wrinkly old potato with a beard?" Rae Fen riposted. Kir scowled at him. "I'd never say that! Because it's _rubbish_."

"It's alright," Nell said to Rhys, who was looking bewildered. "They do this all the time."

The inn turned out to be a large affair, a whitewashed building with three floors and rainbow grape vines adorning the lower storey. It was, unsurprisingly, called the Vineyard. This put an end to Kir and Rae's terrible puns about potential names, the nicest of which were "The Crossed Carrots" and "Bumpkin's Rest". This in turn put an end to Nell's threats that, if they didn't shut up, then _she _would be the next person to pull the racism ace from her frilly sleeves.

Rhys showed them to their rooms. Early spring was quiet, he explained, so they could each have their own room. Accommodation was on the house as thanks, he added brightly, but they would have to pay for meals.

"Would you like a tour of Fum?" Rhys inquired as the group dropped their meagre luggage.

"Here's a field," Rae murmured, "and another field..."

Nell spoke over him. "I would. It'd be nice to get to know my tribal homeland. Coming, you three?"

"Thank you for the offer," Cirrustralyx said, "but I think I'll just stay here for the time being."

"We can tour ourselves tomorrow," Kir added. "When's dinner? Or tea, or whatever you country guys call it."

Rhys shrugged. "Whenever you like. Just let my mother know in advance, she's the cook." He smiled shyly at Nell. "Come on. I've just got to return the cows and then I'll show you round."

Giving a quick bow, he headed for the stairs; Nell followed in his wake, but, when she saw he wasn't looking, she turned back to Cirrustralyx and beamed.

"Isn't he sweet?" she whispered excitedly. Cirrus only had enough time to nod before she'd disappeared.

"Huh," Rae Fen said haughtily. "I think he's pretty dull."

* * *

"Cirrus?" Nell's hushed, sleepy voice drifted through the Yuke's half open door. "I know you're still awake in there. It's nearly two in the morning. Aren't you going to bed?"

"In a bit," Cirrustralyx replied distractedly, quill pen slewing ink across the pages all over his lap. Something about Fum's atmosphere had set him off, and now he could barely scribble fast enough. Lyrics were just writing themselves, scrolling through his head in a silver script. Eventually, with three songs finished to his satisfaction and at least half a dozen more crushed and discarded on the floor, Cirrustralyx's mind came to a gentle standstill and the Yuke boy was asleep before he hit the pillow.

Cirrustralyx rarely dreamed in pictures – most Yukes didn't, especially not in colour – but that night his sleep was full of blossom petals, waterfalls and crystals.

* * *

They spent the next day outside practising in Fum's unusually warm spring climate. There weren't many secluded places to hide, so the group drew more than a few curious stares as the villagers went about their daily business. A few of the children even ceased their hunt for some imaginary monster –the 'apple thief' or something, Kir said mockingly – to come and watch.

"I don't want them to hear all our songs before we even play tonight!" Rae Fen said, exasperated. "It's supposed to be a surprise. Kind of. Just... tone it down a bit. If we're quieter, maybe they'll get bored and go away."

It was more difficult to do than to say; Cirrustralyx's horn only really had the one volume setting and the word "quiet" wasn't even in Kir's vocabulary. They did their best though, only giving up around lunchtime when one of the very youngest children asked Kir what kind of vegetable he was.

"We'll get some food and reconvene later," Rae suggested wearily as Cirrustralyx restrained the Lilty. "Maybe about three?"

"We're playing at six," Nell pointed out. With no instrument to play, she was really only there for moral support and to make sure she was up to date on any changes to the music. Cirrus had tentatively given her his three new songs that morning and she was perusing them intently, trying to decide on tunes for each of them as Kir was too busy to do it.

"Six?" Rae repeated. "Oh, that'll be okay. We'll just run through a couple to get the feel of it."

"It's just a shame we can't get one of these new ones into the mix," Nell said sadly. "They're so amazing."

Rae stretched. "Well, maybe we can use them in a later show."

"I thought we were going home after this one?" Cirrustralyx said.

"We are," Nell reassured him quickly. "But we can still play in Crysila, right?"

"I suppose..."

"Nell!" a voice called, and three Clavat boys appeared at a nearby fence. One of them was Rhys, but the other two Cirrustralyx didn't know. Rae Fen gave them a disinterested once over. "Who're they?"

"Rhys is taking me out to lunch today," Nell said, looking a little confused. "I told you yesterday. And the others are his friends. Jack is the tailor's son with the blonde hair and the boy in green is called Adam. He works up in the orchards."

"If it's Rhys taking you out then why do you have three escorts?" Rae Fen asked.

Nell got up and dusted off her blue robes carefully. It was her only other outfit apart from her waitressing uniform, and she'd made an effort to keep them perfectly neat and clean for the show that night. After placing Cirrus' song sheets into one of the deep pockets she shrugged. "I don't know. But it's kind of nice of them. They're all really polite."

"Uh huh."

Nell frowned. "What, Rae?"

"Lunch time!" Kir yelled abruptly. "Have a nice time Nell, we'll see you at three _come on Rae._"

"What's the matter with him?" Cirrustralyx asked as the Selkie pulled free from Kir and stormed away.

"I just think Spikey's ego took a teensy knock," replied Kir, amused.

"Why?"

The Lilty's grin was malicious. "Maybe because Nell's pulled three boys without even trying, and he's not got one girl yet!"

Six o'clock arrived faster than everyone expected. Nell had tried to make amends with Rae for whatever she'd done that lunchtime, but the Selkie was uncharacteristically moody and exchanged only monotones with her. She'd given up eventually, and took to the wooden stage that had been set up in the cow field with a little furrow between her eyebrows.

The expectant hush of the Fum villagers smoothed it out almost immediately. As Cirrustralyx crept on behind her and Kir settled himself by his saucepans, Nell approached the front of the platform.

"Happy birthday, Elder Tiberius!" she shouted. "Your town loves you very much! I hope you enjoy our music, because we'd really like to get paid!"

There were a few cheers and whistles from the crowd, and some laughter. Rae Fen waved a hand at Kir; the Lilty began a quiet, echoing beat that silenced the watchers. A chord rippled out from the banjo and the music began.

* * *

**End of chapter.**

Ahaha. Rae is jealoussss. But of what? Ooooooh~

You have no idea how long it took me to come up with silly names for a Fummish tavern. Hope you enjoyed this! The next one will be longer :)


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